


Your Heart's Desire

by thewintersgo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Mirror of Erised, Werewolf Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 20:44:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11089560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewintersgo/pseuds/thewintersgo
Summary: Remus finds the Mirror of Erised while in his first year at Hogwarts.





	Your Heart's Desire

Remus knew there was something strange about the ornate, gilded mirror – the cryptic engraving on the top was the first indication, coupled with the fact that it was tucked away in a musty, cluttered room. He was out of bounds and feeling immensely guilty for it, but he couldn’t help peeking into the room – he could have sworn he’d never seen this door before. But that was impossible, he thought; even magic can’t make new rooms sprout from thin air.

He lightly traced a trail with the tip of his finger through the thick layer of dust on the glass. _How long had this been untouched, and why?_ He drew his wand out from the pocket of his robes.

“Scourgify,” he whispered, siphoning away some of the dust and grime. The mirror glinted gently in the light from the waning moon that shone through the window.

He thought it was a trick of the light at first - that the dimness of the room was affecting his eyesight, or maybe perhaps that he was so tired he was seeing things. He took a step closer, breathless – even if it was a trick, he _had_ to see it again – but even when he stood closer, the same face reflected resolutely back at him.

The mirror showed his face whole and unscarred, pale and freckled under his tawny curls.

It was a miracle, an unexplained piece of magic from the ancient mirror, surely, and Remus reached up excitedly to touch his smooth-skinned face - but his heart sank when his fingers came in contact not with soft skin, but deep, puckered scars.

The mirror was...what, a mirror that showed an impossible, alternate reality? A mirror designed to inflict the worst pain imaginable? He felt foolish suddenly for believing it, even for a moment, but he was still drawn to it. He inched closer again until he was almost nose to nose with his perfect reflection.

He sat in front of it cautiously, and stared back at his own face, mesmerized. It was like seeing someone you thought was a close friend but turned out to be a stranger – it was his face, undeniably, and his own honey-brown eyes looking back at him, but this was not Remus. This was another boy – a boy who was happier, human and whole. He gazed into it for what felt like years until a hand gently gripped his shoulder and broke his trance.

“Remus,” said the deep, calm voice of Professor Dumbledore, “it’s late. Surely you should be in Gryffindor Tower at this hour.”

Remus blushed, embarrassed and frightened to be caught flagrantly breaking the rules, but recovered quickly, feeling an obligation to tell Dumbledore what had happened.

“Yes, Professor,” he stammered, “but – but the mirror, it’s – a trick, or Dark magic, or...” he trailed off, having caught his eye in his reflection again, drawn back into the illusion of his unmarred face.

“It is neither,” said Dumbledore, with an air of something Remus couldn’t quite place. “The Mirror of Erised shows nothing more or less than the deepest, truest desire of one’s heart.”

Everything made sense, suddenly. Remus felt like a pit had settled in his stomach.

“...Oh.”

“Whatever you have seen, Remus, is not reality. It is a projection, and nothing more. Men have gone mad gazing into this mirror, and so I must urge you to put it from your mind and return to your dormitory. No points will be taken from Gryffindor – curiosity should not be punished.”

Dumbledore spoke with finality, and Remus knew the matter was closed, but the question escaped his lips before he could stop it.

“Professor – is there any way to _make_ it reality?” he blurted.

A feeling in his gut and the look in Dumbledore’s eyes told him Dumbledore knew what he had seen somehow despite Remus never having said it.

“Sometimes, but in this case...no, I would say there is not,” Dumbledore said with a sigh. “Goodnight, Remus.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a tiny baby fic that has lived in my Google Drive for about two years – I always wanted it to be longer because 600 words feels so short, but there's really not much else that needs to be said. Tiny baby first-year Remus desperately not wanting to be a werewolf only needs so many words, y'know?
> 
> I got hung up on if this was even canonically plausible at all for ages because like, where even IS the Mirror before Philosopher's Stone? But Pottermore claims it was in the Room of Requirement for a century before that, so I'm all clear to have Remus find it sometime in the early 70s!


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